Wounds to Mend
by Lupienne
Summary: Sherry tends to Negan's wounds. (Comic-based, pre-Savior Negan.)


Hi, readers! This is a COMIC-based fiction (as per usual from me!) It contains spoilers from the 'Here's Negan' comic series.

This scene is part of a larger WIP fic of mine called 'A Search for Sanctuary' involving pre-Savior Negan and inspired heavily by 'Here's Negan'. For this scene, I got really inspired by the latest 'Here's Negan' (14) and ended up going, of _course,_ the smut-route with it.

Brief scene setter - The scene starts after Negan is injured in issue 14. The group has dispersed for the night after nobody challenges Negan to any further fights and they say they will figure out what to do in the morning (whether the Rapey-Guy's group wants to go their separate ways and etc.) Dwight gets in an argument with Sherry over Negan. Negan and Sherry at this point have been having a secret affair.

Warnings: swearing, smut, mild mentions of gore.

'A Search for Sanctuary'

Chapter unknown – Wounds to Mend

* * *

"He's a fucking madman!" Dwight's hand was white-knuckled on his crossbow. I knew if I took a step towards him, I'd end up impaled back against the wall. "Did you somehow miss that, Sherry?! The part where he took a bat to someone's head?"

She didn't move from her cross-armed stance between us. Her mouth was a thin line.

I snorted. "Did you miss the part where that motherfucker shoved me? When he was coming right fucking at me? I'd call that self-defense."

"That was more than fucking self defense!" Dwight made to grab at Sherry and pull her towards him. She retreated in my direction. "Sherry… he's dangerous."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Dwighty-boy?" Anger roiled in my gut. "I'm dangerous? Are you just disregarding the fact that now-brainless punk was using women for goddamn currency? Passing them around to every Tom, Dick and Harry - or should I say - to every Tom's hairy dick?" I felt the red creeping into my face, my voice elevating. "Does that fucking sit right with you?!"

I glared straight into his eyes. It'd been happening more and more frequently now – the deference. Dwight rolling over and showing his fucking throat to the Alpha dog.

"No," he finally muttered, and he lowered his crossbow. "It doesn't sit right with me. What they're doing with those women is fucked up."

It was a relief knowing I wasn't going to get any more goddamn injuries tonight. My side was on fire and the blood had started to seep down onto my jeans.

"Sherry," he said. And when she didn't move, Dwight sighed and walked away towards their camp.

"You ought to go after your husband," I grunted. "I'd rather be alone."

"Fine." She pointed towards the security guard shed. "Five minutes to yourself, then I'm coming in."

"For cripe's sake, woman." Now who the fuck was deferring? Me and my pussy-ass getting pussy-whipped. Women were the whole reason I had an inch of blood sloshing in my boots. I headed for the shed anyway, shutting the door behind me. There was a chair that I sank into, putting my head in my hands.

I thought about the guy I'd killed. I knew a normal person might be crying over it . Feeling guilty. I just didn't…. feel shit. And maybe that scared me a little bit. But at the same time… what fucking benefit would feeling guilty do _me? And why should I? He was a filthy parasite. He ain't worth guilt._

Sherry was gone for more than five minutes. Maybe she'd changed her mind and gone to bed with Dwight. Painfully, I unrolled my sleeping bag on the floor and then shrugged out of the coat with a groan. I'd gotten blood on the inside of it, but thankfully the interior was also leather. It'd be easy to clean later. I stroked the tough cowhide. Too bad I hadn't been wearing it when I'd fallen into the barb wire.

The door creaked open. Sherry eased in, carrying a small canvas bag and a burning oil lamp. She set the lamp down and twisted the knob to maximum brightness.

"Sorry. Took me a minute to find this." She unpacked our first aid kit, a heavy gauge needle and what looked like fucking fishing line, but black.

I cringed. "You don't have any medical training."

"Not really. I've seen this in a hundred movies though."

"Oh, how fucking reassuring."

She took out a bottle of liquor.

"Shit, Sherry. Wouldn't you rather drink that?"

"Hell yeah, I would. I'm giving up my booze for you, Negan. So you know this is important." She unscrewed the cap and handed it over. "You might as well take a few swigs because I'm sure this is gonna hurt."

I obeyed, taking a deep breath as the shit burned down my throat. With Sherry's help, I got out of my shirt, finally getting a look at the wound. It was a long chewed-up gash from front to back of my ribcage. The barbed wire had both sliced and ripped out chunks of my flesh.

"Fuckkkk." I hissed as Sherry gently probed with her fingers.

"I'm sorry. We're….we're gonna have to clean it out. You could get a really serious infection if we don't…"

This ain't gonna be fun. I took another swig of the bottle. Piss tasted better than this. Er… not that I'd know. I handed the bottle back to her and clenched my eyes shut as she started to tilt it towards my wound.

Motherfucking _fuck_! Jesus Shit, a fuckin' horse dick shoved sideways up my asshole would probably hurt less!

I tried not to make a sound, but a few grunts and something embarrassingly close to a dog-like whine came out anyway.

Sherry whispered an apology. I kept my eyes closed but fumbled for my coat so I could bite down on it. It'd be a shame to ruin my perfect fucking teeth. She did shit that fucking made me want to piss myself, or maybe vomit. The movies made it look like this procedure is so fuckin' easy-peasy. Splash some whiskey on, croon out a little _Heart of Gold_ while staple-gunning that mother back together.

I squeezed my eyes tighter shut when she did something that made me gasp – a torturous little tug that shot tendrils of pain up and down my side.

"Sorry!" She couldn't be _that_ sorry, because she did the motherfuckin' thing again!

 _I've been in my mind… it's such a fine line._

"I'm almost done." Tug, tug, tug.

 _That keeps me searching-_

"Ok, almost there."

 _-For a heart of gold._

Tug!

 _And_ _ **this**_ _shit is getting old._

"Jesus _Fuck_ , woman! Are you almost done fucking my shit up?"

"Actually, yes. And I think I un-fucked your shit." She laughed softly. "Well… maybe not. This definitely isn't going to heal in any sort of clean fashion."

Good thing chicks dig scars, or well… hopefully the chicks I'm after will.

"Don't worry, Negan." She rubbed my arm. "Women love guys with scars."

I fought a laugh, cause it'd only hurt. It came out as a snort through my nostrils, and I wiped a shaking hand under my nose.

She wiped something wet along my side. "Shit, I hope you don't get infected. This looks so nasty. We found antibiotics in that drugstore. You might want to take some."

"If it gets infected, I will. I'm not gonna waste them for nothing."

She helped me examine her handiwork by holding up a small mirror. She made a series of small, tight stitches. Raw skin pulled together and kissing itself bloody. It was gross but also kind of fucking rad. I inhaled deeply to see how the stitches would hold.

"It looks good, Sher. Well, not good…but you know. Thanks."

"Yeah. I couldn't let you bleed to death." She collected a small pile of bloody gauze and rags and shoved them into an overflowing trash can under the guard's desk.

"Heh. The others sure fucking could."

She frowned down at her hands before wiping them with a few alcohol wipes. She tossed them into the trash too; they fell out of the side.

"No, they wouldn't. They're on your side, Negan. Tara, John…. they helped me find the kit. They were worried about you."

I watched her and the sweep of brown hair hiding her eyes. "Do you think I'm a fucking madman?"

"You think I'd be alone in here with you if I did?"

"I don't know. A lot of women shack up with crazy fucking guys."

She smirked. "You think so highly of me…"

"I do, actually." Carefully, I ran my hand over the wound. "And that didn't exactly answer my fucking question."

She bit her lip. Maybe it was the low lighting of this shack, but her pupils looked fucking full-blown black. It was hard to see if she's flushed, but I can just _tell_ when a woman's hot for me. Fucking ain't exactly a great idea right now, but try to tell my dick that. It already stirred at the possibility that a pussy might be getting wet in its vicinity.

"…that guy deserved it." She spoke softly, like she didn't want anyone to overhear, like what she said was fucking sinful or something. "It's like… you don't know what it's like – to be in fear of what people will do to you….because you're a woman."

"Yeah." I didn't want to talk about this shit. "Guys…they'll just knock us off. Girls… well… you get it the worst. I get it."

"Yeah." She shifted her weight, and idly sifted through some of the crap on the desk. Papers and pens and sticky notes, a crumpled lunch bag, a dried-out pile of orange peel. She found a pack of smokes under an old newspaper and pocketed it.

"So…seeing you defend some girl you didn't even know… seeing that you'd even _kill_ to keep her safe?" She looked back to me, and yeah, this woman was definitely turned on. "Why would I think you're a madman? Be scared to be alone with you? Seems like _you're_ the man I want to stay close to."

The only bush I wanted to beat around was hers. At least, that's what Little Negan told me. My brain must've been hijacked too, because my big mouth opened before I could even process the sentence. "You want to fuck me right now, don't you?"

Sherry was silent for a second and then she cracked up. She leaned against the desk until her laughter died into gasping giggles. "Oh my God. Only you would think about sex right now…"

"You shitting me? I can practically smell your wet panties from here."

"Gross." With one deft motion, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. Her panties went with them, and they're black and I was motherfucking one-hundred-percent correct about her little 'leakage' issues.

She peered down at them for a second, then her eyes flitted to me, a sneer spreading across her lips. "Well, what'dya know? You must have a great nose."

"Fuck my nose."

"I'd rather fuck your penis."

"Yeah. That's what I meant."

She hesitated when she reached me, though. She took a step back. "No. Sorry. This isn't a good idea. You're hurt."

"I'm not that hurt. Just be fuckin' gentle with me." I winked. "C'mon… help me take my mind off it."

She didn't move.

I barked out a mock-order. "Get that pussy over here on this dick, woman! On the double!"

"Wow, Negan, you really know how to sweet talk a lady…" And I really must, because she stepped up to me and unbuttoned my pants. Little Negan fucking jumped for joy!

"You must have some blood left," She grinned. Her palm teasingly rubbed over my massive bulge. I lifted my ass so she could tug my pants down before sitting with a groan. Fucking _ouch_. My heavier breathing made my side burn.

When her hand clenched around my dick, I forgot about my side for the moment.

"You want my pussy, now, sir?" She cooed and worked her hand in slow, motherfucking _fantastic_ strokes. "Or do you want my mouth first?"

"F-f-fuck. M-m-mouth."

"My goodness. Someone's riled up." She leaned her head down and gave me a lick from balls to tip, then shot those green eyes up at me.

"Every guy is riled up when he knows he's gonna get head."

She chuckled and then put her mouth to much better fucking use. Oh, man. I leaned my head back on the rest.

"Head _and_ tail." Another chuckle vibrated through my balls.

I love the way this chick thinks….but I myself, didn't want to think for a while. My eyes shut and I focused on the feelings of her mouth and hand and the quickening of my heart. Pumping what remained of my blood. But it was still circulating, and I was still motherfuckin' alive.

"Yeah…" I moaned and looked back down at Sherry, brushing some of her hair from her face. I liked seeing those lips wrapped around my dick, the shine of moisture her mouth left on me.

Sitting in this chair, getting pleasured – I feel like a fucking King. Thoughts drift through my head, all hazy and unorganized. Shit from tonight. People's mouths flung open in fear and horror and awe – all directed at me. People with their eyes wide in submission – scared of motherfuckin' _me._

People finally listening to me… _really_ listening. Shivering like mice before their fuckin' Rat God.

"Fuck yeah…" I gripped Sherry's hair in my fist. I wanted to drive my dick right down her throat, but she ain't into that. Instead, I just held on tight.

Like I held the bat. When it hit that motherfuck's skull – it vibrated right through me. Up my arms, into my shoulders and turned electric when it hit my heart. A fuckin' jumpstart.

"Yes…" She had to time her bobbing to my hips now. Thinking about it – the way his skull was solid, then less yielding, and finally – shattering. A ripe pumpkin exploding to the sound of gasps and moans. I had done what everyone in the old world wished they could – purging our life of shit and filth.

"Fuck – I'm gonna-"

I was about to blow my load thinking about this. Somebody's fucking gore on my hands, the smell of their blood in my nose, even the pain in my side added to the thrill. What the fuck is wrong with me? Or… maybe I ain't wrong at all. Maybe the world was wrong all along and I'm now coming along to put it to rights.

"Hey, now!" Sherry scolded and sat up. Goddamn it! I almost yanked her head right back, but released the tension in a snort instead.

"Don't you dare go away and leave me yet." She said to my dick. "I'm not done with you."

There's nothing quite like a woman bossing your dick around. I mean, it's kind of a turn-on and yet, goes against everything your dick wants. Or at least, my dick. My dick wants everything it's way – and it's all about instant grati-fucking-fication… but it doesn't always know what's good for it.

A snorting laugh left my mouth. All the blood must've been out of my brain and in my fuckin' engorged cock, because I was seriously pondering about the sentience of my goddamn dick.

"Negan…" She rapped her knuckles lightly against my temple. "You there?"

"I'm here, babe. Just trying to get my bearings after you pulled off my damn dick like that."

"Awww, you poor dear." She kissed my forehead while dragging one of my hands between her legs. That wasn't helping me hold my goddamn load in, feeling the slickness on her thighs. Like a fucking heat-seeking missile, one of my fingers sank up inside her. I loved that gasp and the way she leaned into it. My dick twitched a few times.

"Whew." I had to take a deep breath before I pressed another finger inside. Sherry took both armrests in her hands and kind of leaned over me, letting me finger-fuck her for a few minutes. Damn, what a view. Watching her lips quiver as her breathing got harder, her tongue licking 'em now and then. Her cheeks getting red. Only thing better would be to see her titties swinging as she rocked with my motions.

"Take your shirt off."

She gave me some kind of bullshit excuse. She's 'too lazy'. If she was wearing only a t-shirt, I'd just rip that shit off, but she's got on a plaid button-up and t-shirt, a cami and a fuckin' bra, like someone who just excessively gift-wraps a present with about fifty layers.

"Denying me titties, God, you're a cruel woman."

"You'd better believe it, buddy." She smirked and straddled me in the chair.

All of my opposition dissolved when her tight pussy slid down around me. "Oh fuck…" I groaned, my hips jerking upwards involuntarily. There's that heat-seeking missile again. Her exhale of breath, with just the tiniest whimper at the end, is like a fucking symphonic masterpiece in my ear.

"You like that, Sherry? My big fucking dick?"

"I thought you nicknamed it _Little Negan_?"

"Well…little in comparison to my entire body mass… but still pretty big for a dick. Right?"

She leaned back a little, using my shoulders to brace herself. She rocked slightly, biting her lip.

"You aren't answering…"

"Stop being so insecure." She gently smacked my cheek. "I'm fucking you, aren't I? Must mean I like your…" She lowered her voice to a sexy rasp. "…massive slab of man-meat."

"Fuck yes!"

This definitely isn't going to be instant gratification. It's a slow ride, but maybe this is better for me right now, despite my desire to slide off this seat and really give her a pounding. Against the wall, or leaned over that desk and taking me from behind. Guess I gotta take what I fucking get – even though I'm denied the sight of her naked titties bouncing. I did like watching pleasure flit across her face. Her head thrown back, then her green eyes staring into mine with hungry heat.

I let myself zone out, my vision unfocusing. That's probably the best part about fucking. Not to sound like a fucking dork or some goddamn hippie, but it's like going to another world, like a higher motherfuckin' plane or some shit. Just floating in sensation. A reprieve from everything for just a little while.

She was more conscious of where we were – because every time a moan came to her lips, she tried to muffle it. Why bother hiding what everyone already knows? I closed my eyes to tune her and her pointless struggles out – and once again, the weird fuckin' thoughts were interwoven into everything.

Her pussy clenching around me -

 _Fuckhead's skull shattered on the ground._

Her nails dug into my flesh, ten burning needles of pleasure -

 _I'd actually killed someone. Someone not already dead._

Her harsh breaths and moans in my ear.

 _Everyone backing away from me. No challenges. I'm the Top Motherfucker here._

"N-n-Negan…" A warm wash of her fuckin' arousal dripped down onto me.

I clenched my hands harder into the soft flesh of her hips, driving myself up hard into her. My side burning was a distant memory. "Yeah, baby. Fuck that cock. Cum all over that dick!"

"Sssh."

She always said my dirty talk was ridiculous. I tried to think more creatively which was hard when my brain was fucking blood-dry. "I wanna feel that pussy crushing me like a goddamn vice. Fuckin' drown my balls in your-"

"Shut up, Negan!" She huffed a laugh, and sloppily kissed at my mouth. Our teeth knocked together and I tasted blood.

"Shit. That's dangerous."

She nursed her own nicked lip, sucking it between her teeth. "Still not as painful as your 'sexy talk'."

"Heh. Sweet cream. I was gonna say 'drown my balls in your sweet cream'."

"Honestly, Negan, that's awful." She smacked my chest. "I am two seconds away from jumping right off your lap."

"No…don't do that! You're right, it was kind of fucking bad." I shut my trap and commenced to fucking her – because the fact that we're talking means it's not nearly hard enough. I held onto those sweet fuckin' hips, jack-hammering the shit out of her. Her eyes widened, and she tightened her grip on my shoulder.

"Oh…oh!"

I dug deeper into the pliant flesh, fingers pressed into her thighs. I'm pretty sure it'll leave bruises on her – and what will she tell Dwighty then? Heh. I spared my pelvis from some of the action and used my arms to pull her up and down on me, in timing to the rocking of her hips.

Goddamn, it feels so good. My head tilted back, and unlike her, I didn't bother to keep my grunts and groans contained. My ribcage heaved for breath and energy and I felt a dull sting where my wound was. But the pressure was building in the pit of my belly, and my fucking balls were aching – fuck, I don't care if the rest of my blood was pouring from me at this moment.

"Easy, Negan," she breathed.

"Hmm?"

"You'll rip your stitches."

Like I gave a fuck about that right now. "You can just restitch 'em."

She doesn't protest again when I get back to it, and I could tell by her face – she didn't want me to stop. And neither do I. Besides getting my own rocks off, there ain't nothing better than reducing a woman to some eye-rolling, mouth-gaped mess. Too breathless to even squeak out a scream when she cums hard around me. Feeling those little flutters from inside her, and the slow ooze of fuckin' honey. Goddamn – this is what I told that poor kid – this is what fucking does to you. Turns you into a mindless animal drooling for your next piece of flesh.

Sherry's right on the edge, and I was getting tired from the blood loss and everything else, but I kept up the hard pace. Then she's there, shuddering as she bit into my shoulder, probably giving me another wound to stitch up. A sobbing whimper muffled into my skin. She really fucking floods when she cums.

 _Hell yeah! I am become Negan, the destroyer of pussies._

She ground down on me a few more times, taking every last bit of pleasure. I couldn't take much more. "Fuck!" My eyes rolled back. Who am I fucking kidding? Pussy is always one step away from destroying _me._

"All right. You gotta - " I could barely talk. Forcing myself to let go of her hips, every finger locked in fucking rigor-mortis. "Gotta get off, Sher. I'm gonna-"

She sighed, but quickly pulled off me to set her shaking legs on the floor. We're fucking goddamn stupid to ride bareback like this. I reached down to jerk myself the rest of the way.

Sherry pushed my hand away while folding down to her knees. "We don't want to make a mess, now do we?"

"S-s-shit!" My cock was suddenly tonsil-deep in her throat. I swear I'm going to lose my fucking mind. The most unmanly noises came from me, but who fucking cared. It only took two thrusts and I painted her insides white. "Fucking hell! F-f-fuck!"

She swallowed with a wink thrown up to me, and a lascivious purring grin as she pulled off. One finger swiped the corner of her mouth. Fucking Christ on a goddamn cracker – I've got to get hurt more often.

After we recovered, she inspected my side. It was bleeding again. Turned out I did pull a stitch or two. The burn and hurt wasn't as bad when dulled by my euphoric high, and I didn't fuss too much when she did whatever she did to tighten them up again. (I still couldn't look at that shit. Yeah…I'm a pussy.)

She sighed, wiping her hands on a rag. She put her pants back on and I tucked my junk back into mine.

"You gotta go easy on those stitches from now on."

"Yeah. I will. Maybe we'll stay here a few days. I'll take it easy. We'll collect the good shit, get some trucks running."

"Yeah." She doesn't sound very interested right now. I guess neither of us really wanted to think about the upcoming days. Better to go to sleep with memories of our awesome fucking session. Take whatever fucking joy we can, when we can get it.

One hand tugged between her legs, adjusting her panties or some shit. "I'm sticky," she mummered. "And bloody. You made a mess of me, Negan."

Well, we're even there.

"I guess I'll wash up before I head back." She bit her lip. I could tell she's not comfortable with the idea of going into the bathroom alone. But she wanted to get rid of _our_ evidence. Pathetic.

"I'll stand guard if you want."

"No, it's ok…"

I smirked. "Well, your breath smells like my cock too. Don't forget to brush up before you kiss Dwight with that mouth."

She bristled as I poked into sore territory. Her mouth was that thin line again. "Negan, don't start."

"When you gonna tell him?" I'm fucking over this. Pretending we're not involved is more of an insult to Dwight than anything at this point.

"When I'm ready, I told you. Stop pressuring me."

"It's better to just get it over with. Unless you want to end this?"

"Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

"No." I picked up my shirt and glared at it. Fucking ruined. I'll have to find a new one tomorrow. "It's just… I'm sick of this tired-ass shit. Beating around the bush. Hiding and lying. That's my old ways. I want to start fuckin' clean."

Her eyes were starting to burn as they bored into mine. "The woman you loved is _dead_ , Negan. It's easier for you. My husband is still fucking alive. And I still have feelings for him!"

Leave it to Sherry to pick up on what I said. _I know what it's liked to have loved a woman. Emphasis on l_ _ **oved.**_ That fucking barbed wire ain't got nothing on how painful her words are.

My body stiffened and I felt a slight pull on the stitches. "I think it's time I hit the fucking sack now. Kind of tired." My voice sounded hollower than fuckhead's skullcase.

Her intense gaze softened, dropping to the floor. She swallowed hard, her voice coming out shaky. Goddammit, not woman tears on top of everything else. Just more goddamn salt in the wound.

"I'm sorry, Negan, that wasn't right to say. It's… it's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I… I just don't know what to do."

I didn't answer. So much for going to bed happy.

She reached out, touching the tight muscle of my clenched jaw. "I really like you.. I think what we have is… something. I just need time before I tell him. And a better place."

The tension left my body in a long sigh. Maybe she's right – and this shit _is_ easier for me. Since I'm a goddamn cheater. For fuckin' years, I lived and breathed a life of infidelity. I've got _practice_ in being a deceitful asshole.

"Yeah, Sher." I trailed my fingers along her arm. "Yeah. Ok. We'll wait. You're right. We'll get settled somewhere first."

Her smile was weak, but grateful. She kissed my forehead and cheek. "You gonna be ok in here? You don't want to sleep with the rest of us?"

"I'll be fine."

She refused my repeated offer to stand guard over the bathroom. I watched her vanish into the night.

Even though I laid down on the sleeping bag – after securing the door with the guard's desk – I knew I wouldn't be fucking sleeping. You gotta keep one eye open, always. One eye never closing, because even though Sherry can pretend all she wants, we both know there ain't no better place in this shithole of world.

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 _If you enjoyed or found this fic even the least bit entertaining...please leave a comment. I don't get much feedback and it's quite discouraging. Your comment would mean a lot to me, however brief. I also don't mind (constructive) criticism. :)_


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